


orange

by vagarius



Series: sunset colors [1]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagarius/pseuds/vagarius
Summary: The room is dark, the rain is loud, and Madoka wants his brother.
Relationships: Ikaruga Madoka/Ikaruga Misumi
Series: sunset colors [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012533
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	orange

The storm starts without warning.

His desk lamp turns off during the third bout of thunder. He flicks the switch a few times to be sure, but the bulb remains dark. He doesn't feel tired yet, but he can't write like this – he's tried, before, and it does nothing but give him a headache the next morning. Reluctantly, he changes into his nightclothes, then slips under his duvet, dreading another sleepless night.

Thunder rolls in for a fourth time. Madoka rolls this way and that, his legs tangling into the sheets. He throws his head back onto his pillow with a groan. Like his mind does almost every night since then, his thoughts drift back to that summer evening, when his brother had finally visited him.

He remembers the way the sun had looked through his window that day – it had dyed the sky orange, and had bathed his bedroom in a fiery light. He turns toward his window now, dark and dreary, and remembers the airplane that had flown through it. He hadn't actually seen Misumi that day – Madoka would never be so lucky – but Madoka can imagine it, the way the light would have outlined Misumi's frame like a full-body halo. An untouchable angel, and a beautiful one – one with strong arms, and sturdy legs, and eyes the same sunset color of the evening sky.

Madoka groans again, his eyes falling shut as his stomach grows shamefully warm. This isn't a first, either – but Madoka is not one to indulge, especially over something like this. The room is dark, though, only the faintest light from the moon spilling in from the outside. The thunder and rain cover his ears like a blanket.

And, more than anything, Madoka wants his brother.

Madoka's eyes blink open again as his hand moves downward. He lightly rubs his palm over his clothes before pulling the fabric down and away. His hand his cold when he touches skin, but Madoka ignores it, and strokes himself to full hardness.

Madoka hadn't been doing anything like this, the evening his brother had thrown that paper airplane through the window. He doesn't know why he would've have been. But what if he had?

_Would his brother have stayed?_

Madoka swallows thickly.

_Would he have finally looked at him?_

Madoka's mind returns to that evening, bathed in orange sunshine. His brother climbs through the window and into his bedroom. "Madoka," he says, in his sugar-sweet voice. "You're such a mess."

 _No,_ Madoka thinks. _He wouldn't say that. Not Misumi._

Madoka pants. "Nii-san…"

In his mind, the Misumi of that evening smiles at him, and steps closer. "Does Madoka need his brother's help?"

In his fantasy, Madoka doesn't need to answer, because Misumi already knows. His brother's knees would hit the floor next to his bed, and his hand would wrap around Madoka's cock, and Misumi's face would settle a scant few centimeters away from his. "Let me~"

Madoka bites his lip, and forces his hand to move at a steady pace. His brother would take his time, at least at first. Misumi had always been so careful with him – even when faced with Madoka's cruelty, he had always been so gentle. Madoka skims his other hand along the inside of his thigh, and imagines Misumi's hand doing the same.

Madoka's voice rises. The Misumi of his imagination muffles his noises with a kiss like syrup, wet and sticky and slow. The Madoka of reality shoves his face into his pillow, and bites hard into the fabric.

His own hand speeds up without permission. He doesn't want this precious time with his brother to end, but Misumi was never meant to stay with him long. Madoka's release quickly approaches.

"It's okay," Misumi whispers. "Nii-chan is here with you."

Madoka's hips jerks forward as he cums, a weak sob leaving his lips. He hurriedly moves his hand to catch his release before it can fall onto his duvet or mattress.

The Misumi in his mind smiles once more before fading away. The window is no longer dyed orange by the summer evening – instead, the rainy night returns, full of its cottony thunder. Instead of being blown wide from pleasure, Madoka's pupils widen and strain to see across the dark of his bedroom, to where his desk lamp is still powered off. His heart rattles like a drum in his chest.

Madoka inhales deeply through his nose, then exhales slowly through his mouth. Gradually, his heartbeat slows to something more acceptable.

He stares down at his dirtied hand.

 _Abhorrent,_ he thinks. _Deplorable._

Unceremoniously, he wipes his soiled parts and the mess off his hand with a tissue from the nightstand, then tucks himself back into his boxers and nightclothes. He stands to throw the tissue out in the garbage can by his desk.

He looks up at the closed window. The rain continues to fall.

Impossibly, some of the water droplets land on his palms.


End file.
